Taming the Devil
by AsLostAsAliceAsMadAsTheHatter
Summary: A reworking of my original story, She just Needed a Little Love. Follows the same premise, except with a better plot and execution. Lynn is still head over heels for the crazy heiress, but can Cruella ever reciprocate? Or is she doomed to an existence of unrequited love?
1. Chapter 1

"So, Ms. Smith, how did you meet Cruella De Vil?"

"Simple. I had just moved here from America..."

* * *

The dreary overcast skies of London matched her mood perfectly. She'd never much cared for the small country, but when you've had enough and need to escape what better way to accomplish it than to move across an entire ocean? She sighed, closing her eyes and remembering the moment that had led to her current lot in life.

* * *

 _The stage lights were bright, the crowd was cheering, and she was over the moon. The models grouped around her, congratulating her for the spectacular show that had taken a year to pull off, not to mention numerous favors. Lynn may be only twenty-four, but she'd made it big._

 _A flash of white caught her attention and she couldn't help the victorious smirk that covered her features as she stared down at Miranda Priestly, the woman who'd all-but blacklisted her eighteen months previous. She still remembered the disastrous showing, the curled lip and the icy "It seems I've wasted my time." Her heart still lurched thinking about it. But now, now she had proven her wrong. Fashion houses across the globe were clamoring for her favor and notice, though for some reason she couldn't muster the excitement she felt the attention deserved._

 _In truth, she felt slightly hollow, and even as she accepted numerous bouquets of flowers and praise, she could feel exhaustion creeping in, perhaps even some loathing for the people in front of her, the very same people she practically had to sell her soul to a scant year before to even view her work, and all because one woman had them cowed._

…

 _As the days wore on and the calls kept flooding in, the exhaustion seemed to grow. She bounced around from fashion house to fashion house, always successful, always favored, but never happy. Within six months of her break out she was burned out, and it reflected in her designs. They became uninspired and unoriginal, mere shadows of the creations she had once pulled out of thin air. The job offers began to slow, magazines and contractors alike shying away from what was quickly becoming an imploding artist._

 _Seven months showed even less promise than the first six, calls now nearly nonexistent and new designs far and few between. With Fall Fashion Week approaching and nothing to show for herself, Lynn finally admitted that maybe, just maybe, she needed a break._

 _Nine months after officially taking the world by storm, Lynn was mostly forgotten, and also extremely depressed. She missed her work, honestly she did, but she couldn't find the motivation nor inspiration to even pick up a pencil, much less attempt to sketch. She supposed then that Miranda had won after all, had been right all along. As she stared at the New York skyline she'd become so familiar with in the last six years, she felt an immense hatred well up within her. Fuck this city, with all its judgmental people and rigid timelines. She glanced at her desk that hadn't been touched in months, eyes flashing, and grabbed her sketchbook, hurling it across the room. Pages fluttered everywhere, but she didn't stop. She knocked over her cup of pencils and pens, threw her tin of colored pencils across the room. She didn't stop until the room was utterly destroyed, and then, as she viewed the remnants of her tantrum, she sank to her knees and cried._

…

 _She sold everything except her clothes and personal mementos and spun a globe absentmindedly, closing her eyes and jabbing it randomly. She opened her eyes warily, surprised and a little relieved to see that she was pointing at England. A grin spread across her face as she picked up the phone book and dialed the airport, checking flight departures for London._

* * *

She opened her eyes, noting the building looming in the distance. House of De Vil, where she was set to begin her new job. It hadn't been hard really to get herself set up. She'd found a modest apartment, and used what few contacts she still had to scout out a job. When she'd discovered that House of De Vil was in need of a secretary she'd pounced at the offer. It may not be designing, she wasn't quite ready for that yet, but at least it was still in the industry.

She'd heard rumors of the woman's explosive temper, but after spending several years around La Priestly she couldn't say she was intimidated. She'd much rather explosive and expressive than quiet and cutting any day. Perhaps that was why Alonzo had been so quick to grant her employment. Well, that and the fact that no one else seemed to want the job.

The car rolled to a halt at the base of the staircase leading up to the fashion house, and she steeled her nerves, hoping this change would help. She couldn't help but crack a smile as she stepped through the doors, this the first time in several months she had set foot in such a place. As she stepped out onto the third floor, which housed the designers and the devil herself, she immediately noticed the thick tension hanging in the air, not to mention the fear. Cocking an eyebrow, she made her way to Alonzo's desk, introducing herself and not quite able to hide her pleasure at his recognition. He showed her to her desk, a modest thing just outside of massive metal doors, hardly noticeable in comparison to the maze of tables, which she could only assume led to Cruella's office.

"If you n-need an-anything, do l-l-let me kn-know," Alonzo said before skittering off to his own desk.

"Okay," Lynn said quietly, unable to believe her new boss was quite that awful.

She began familiarizing herself with the phone system and layout of the office, her eyes lingering on the tables of the designers longingly. She sighed, grabbing the phone as it began ringing.

"Ms. De Vil's office, may I take a message?"

* * *

Production stopped dead. Lynn's head shot up at the sudden and utter absence of sound, only for the hairs on the back of her neck to raise and the temperature of the room to plummet. She found her eyes drawn to a woman who must be Cruella De Vil, if the power that radiated from her was anything to go by. She wore a tight black dress that hugged her small waist and wide hips and pushed up her breasts, stiletto heels that were easily five inches tall, and a black fur coat, perhaps made of leopard. She was gorgeous. She blinked, forcing herself to breathe.

She may have known of the woman, but she had never before laid eyes on her.

Her eyes followed Cruella's descent down the catwalk, a coil beginning to form in her stomach. She barely heard the timid greetings thrown around, more focused on the woman they were aimed at. Said woman stalked around the room, glancing over designers' shoulders at their work before making her way toward the double doors Lynn sat in front of and subsequently Lynn herself.

"You must be my new assistant," Cruella purred, her tone sending shivers down the woman's spine.

"Yes, Ms. De Vil," Lynn answered, forcing her eyes to stay on her employer's face rather than slide down to her chest.

"Come into my office, I think we need to have a little talk."

She followed her warily, unsure what she could have done in the hour she had been at her desk to cause a reprimand. The zebra print floors nearly blinded her, and she was only just able to keep a wince in check as she took in the rest of the office. She looked around with a sharp eye, mentally dissecting the space and putting it back together in a much more tasteful décor. Cruella watched her out of the corner of her eye, settling herself behind her desk and lighting up a cigarette.

She wasn't stupid, she knew who the young woman was. Her designs had brought the fashion world to a screeching halt a mere year previous, and her decline had been well documented. It was no mistake that she had been granted the job that no other dared take, though she was curious as to what caused such a brilliant mind to stall so horrendously.

"Let's not play games," she said, startling the younger woman out of her mental remodel. "I know who you are, dear. My question to you is, why demote yourself to assistant when we both know you could be dominating the industry?"

Lynn sighed, taking a seat in one of the chairs across the desk.

"I need a break. As I'm sure you're aware of I spent over a year creating numerous designs that debuted at spring fashion week in Milan. My popularity was short-lived, and I found myself growing bitter with the world. The only reason I pushed myself so hard was to prove Miranda Priestly wrong, and remind her she is not god."

Cruella arched an eyebrow, all the more interested.

"So your incredible success was merely a form of revenge?" She threw her head back and laughed, deciding she liked this young woman. "Darling, that is simply beautiful."

"Beg pardon?"

"Don't you see? Mind games are some of the most delicate yet effective torture methods there are, and Miranda Priestly is one of the best. I must say, I'm quite impressed you had the courage to stand against her like that. Quite daring."

"Thank you? Honestly I was just frustrated that everyone bows to her whim. It's ridiculous."

"That it is, my dear," the older woman agreed, intrigue lighting up her eyes, though the younger woman couldn't tell.

"Well, I suppose I should get back to work," Lynn said awkwardly, unsure how she was supposed to act around the woman.

"Yes, do that. And do let me know if there is anything I can do to help you settle in."

"Um, I will. Thank you, Ms. De Vil."

"Cruella," the woman said with a predatory smile.

"Cruella," Lynn amended, standing to return to her desk, desperately trying to ignore the eyes searing holes into her back as she walked.

* * *

Lynn decided that the woman wasn't as menacing as everyone made her out to be.

In the few weeks she'd been with the company the woman had been nothing but courteous and respectful to her, something that seemed to shock the other employees, Alonzo especially. She was beginning to enjoy her job, relaxing into the flow of the fashion house and getting to know her colleagues, not mention the time she spent with Cruella. The older woman was always gorgeous, always graceful, and Lynn would be lying if she said she wasn't attracted her. She fought that attention, determined not to let a little crush ruin the first ray of happiness she'd had in what felt like forever.

As it so happened, she liked her boss fairly well, and the same could be said of the fashionista. They had several small conversations throughout every day, and she was beginning the realize the woman was quite kind underneath her fiery reputation, though as it turned out said reputation wasn't entirely unfounded. Lynn witnessed a display of her temper mere days after her arrival after a novice tailor sewed the wrong lining into a stole for Cruella's personal collection. As much fuss as she made over it you'd think he had dyed the fur a garish neon and half shaved it to boot. He'd scampered out of her office in tears, clutching the offending piece of clothing to his chest as if it were a shield. She had laughed, she couldn't help it really, not when she was the only living soul not afraid of her boss.

Everyone else in the office had cringed and avoided the black and white whirlwind whenever possible, terrified they'd be the next to receive her scathing temper. Lynn had simply grinned, unable to find it in herself to be afraid when every brain cell screamed that she should be. Cruella seemed to be impressed by her lack of reaction to her temper, thus sparing her from the verbal slaughter Alonzo received. Personally, Lynn thought Cruella was interesting, perhaps in need of someone who wouldn't cower under her sheer personality. It was a challenge, but she had always loved a challenge.


	2. Chapter 2

The months under Cruella's employ seemed to fly by, Lynn settling into a routine and adjusting to the full extent of her duties, which seemed to increase every week. She didn't mind, she adored her employer, and worked tirelessly to ensure her happiness and the company's success. When it was discovered she was the only person in the company able to enter the woman's office uninvited and not come out shaken, she quickly became the ferrier for all questions from designers and even acquired some of Alonzo's duties. Gradually, she became friendlier with the she-devil, and couldn't help but develop a soft spot for her. She had also memorized her routine, and thus when Cruella stormed in like a whirlwind far earlier than usual one morning, she knew something was wrong.

She hadn't returned her greeting, merely stormed past and forced her office doors shut. Lynn, concerned, got up to check on her and to her dismay found the doors locked. She sighed, deciding to let her be for the moment before returning to her desk and readying for what promised to be a busy day, what with next season's supply orders to be placed, interviews to be scheduled, and a million and one other things that were sure to pop up. She glanced at the steel doors a final time before pulling out her schedule book and slipping on her headset, gifted with Alonzo's blessing, and pressing the power button.

* * *

Alonzo had been shocked upon his arrival to find Cruella already present, and even more so to find the doors to her office sealed. Trembling, he raised a shaky hand to knock, visibly sweating as he waited for a response. Lynn cocked an eyebrow as she fielded yet another ridiculous reporter's question, intent on witnessing the outcome of his rather brave decision. She flicked her headset off when the intercom on her desk buzzed, pressing the button and leaning back, prepared for the screaming she was sure to hear.

"Lynn, tell whoever is responsible for that racket to go away. I won't be seeing anyone today," Cruella said quietly, her voice slightly husky.

"Of course, Cruella." She looked to Alonzo for a clue as to their boss' unusual behavior, but he looked just as perplexed if not more so. "Well you heard her I guess. She's not to be disturbed."

"B-but why?" he asked.

"If I knew that I most likely wouldn't be sitting here," she answered, glancing at up at him from the document she was typing.

He paled, misunderstanding her meaning, and scampered away. Just as well, he grated her nerves with his nervous jumpy behavior. She continued working, powering through a great deal of her workload in mere hours, though a part of her mind couldn't help but worry for the woman locked in the office. It nagged at her throughout the morning and most of the afternoon, only growing when she realized that not only had entrance to her office been denied, but she had yet to emerge. By mid afternoon she couldn't take it anymore, and prepared to face the devil.

Most of the designers had finished up for the day, leaving the upper floor mostly vacant, thus making it even easier for her to input the security override code and access the office. She entered hesitantly, unsure of what she would find, startled when she stepped into darkness. Cruella had shut off nearly every light in the room, leaving only the fading natural light from outside and the lamp nearest her desk as the only sources of light. Her chair had been turned to face the window, though as the backrest wasn't solid she could clearly make out the older woman peering over the city.

"Cruella?" Lynn called out tentatively.

She twitched, but otherwise didn't move.

"Can you not follow a simple set of directions?" she asked, though the snarky question lacked its usual fire and volume.

Her voice was even scratchier than it had been that morning, and her concern skyrocketed. Wordlessly, she pressed a button on the office's control panel, causing the room to be flooded with fluorescent light. She winced at the sudden change, blinking away the spots in her vision before approaching the dias Cruella's desk sat on. She stood at her side silently for a moment before turning to face her, eyes going wide at the sight before her.

Cruella's makeup, usually so pristine, was running down her face, her eyeliner and mascara leaving ugly black streaks down her pale skin. Her eyes, normally crackling with passion and a slight hint of insanity, were red-rimmed and dull. She turned her head to the side as Lynn took a step closer, closing her eyes and exhaling a shaky breath. The younger woman didn't even consider the consequences of her next move as she knelt down and wrapped her arms around her. Cruella froze, muscles tensing, before violently shoving the other woman away.

"What do you think you're doing?!"

"You're upset. I'm _trying_ to help you feel better," Lynn said with a roll of her eyes. Uncertainty flashed in the older woman's eyes. Lynn narrowed hers. "You...you've never been hugged before?" Silence was her answer. "Shit," she breathed, disbelief obvious.

No wonder the woman was always fuming and shouting; she'd never been shown comfort. Well, that was another piece of the puzzle solved. She leaned back in cautiously, once more wrapping her arms around the heiress. She stiffened again, though gradually began to relax into her hold as she grew accustomed to the feeling. It wasn't long after that Lynn felt warm tears soaking into her blouse, no doubt staining the pale fabric.

She hummed quietly, acknowledging the tears, and gathered her a little closer against her chest. She didn't know how long they remained in that position, only that by the time Cruella began to calm once more her legs were numb. She sat back, giving her some space to pull herself together, and gave her a small smile.

"Feel better?"

"A tad."

"May I ask what's upset you so?"

Cruella sighed, leaning her head against the chair and closing her eyes.

"My mother died this morning." Reflexively, Lynn grasped her hands, massaging them when the iciness of the older woman's skin registered. "I wasn't particularly fond of her, but she was my mother, and my last living relation."

"I understand."

"Do you? Do your really? Have you any idea what it's like to so suddenly realize that you're alone in the world? Not a single soul besides yourself that can marginally understand you?" Blue eyes opened and settled on her face, seeming to bore into her soul. "Because at one point I thought I knew how it was to be alone. I'm only now realizing the full extent of that existence."

Lynn sighed, debating on whether to reveal such a personal fact about herself to the woman famous for ruination, ultimately deciding that it was only fair.

"I do. I moved to New York at eighteen, fully against my father's wishes and without his support. My mother, on the other hand, fully encouraged me to follow my dream. But, she was sick. I was going to postpone the move so I could spend more time with her, but she insisted that I go. So I did.

I had just barely begun interning with a novice designer when my father called to tell me she had passed. I couldn't afford the trip home, so I was left to deal with my grief alone in a city I wasn't familiar with. If that doesn't define loneliness, I don't know what does."

"Did you ever make your peace with her passing?" Cruella asked.

"Eventually yes. Although it took a long time and I still miss her terribly. Some days there's nothing I want more than to hear her voice."

"I don't miss her. Is that horrible? I don't, and probably never will."

"It's...unusual," Lynn responded, "but if you two weren't close then I suppose it isn't horrible at all."

Cruella smiled then, and Lynn felt a warmth in her chest at being the one able to calm her.

"Thank you," she said, not an ounce of sarcasm in the words as was so common when she spoke them.

"You're welcome, I'm glad I could help."

She pulled a tissue out of the box on the desk, smiling sheepishly as she began to clean the older woman's face with a shaking hand. To her surprise, Cruella sat perfectly still and allowed her to wipe away the ruined makeup, no inkling of displeasure in her posture. She even sighed quietly, leaving Lynn to wonder just how starved for comfort and human touch she must be. Tossing the soiled tissue in the garbage, she retrieved some makeup from the ensuite and watched as her employer erased all evidence she had been crying.

"You look beautiful," she breathed before she could stop herself, feeling her face light up with what she was sure to be a brilliant blush.

Cruella looked startled for a moment before smirking lazily, her usual confidence and grace back in place.

"Why thank you darling," she said, obviously enjoying Lynn's embarrassment.

The younger woman's eyes darted away, her blush steadily creeping down her throat to her chest. Sapphire eyes followed the color, a predatory look creeping across her face. Desire flicked through her, stunning her slightly, as it had been quite a long time (ten years? Twenty?) since she'd last desired someone in such a way. But looking at the young woman who had been nothing but kind and attentive since she'd come under her employ, she saw for the first time a beautiful, clever woman instead of a lowly assistant. She watched her struggle to remain still and not squirm under her gaze, grin broadening at her continued discomfort. Lynn cleared her throat, attempting to push down the urge to babble apologies.

The silence stretched on, Lynn drowning in embarrassment and Cruella thoroughly lost in her own lustful thoughts.

"I'm sorry," the younger woman finally whispered. "That was inappropriate."

"Quite alright, darling. No harm done."

"I should um...should go check on...uh…."

"Yes, do that."

Oh yes, she thought as she watched her practically run out of the office, she was quite promising.


End file.
